


the homes we’ve built

by 2ndstartotheright



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, pwp in a trench coat pretending to be a zombie au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ndstartotheright/pseuds/2ndstartotheright
Summary: Changmin’s eyes are hooded, his lashes wet with sweat and the tears trapped in them. His irises turn to glass when he looks up at Juyeon, and the moonlight overhead gets trapped in them; even after all this time, it’s hard not to stare..They’ve managed to stay alive, against all odds, and Changmin’s still here, as the only one Juyeon can still call his own, just as much as he’s the only home Juyeon will ever belong to, and that’s all that really matters.
Relationships: Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	the homes we’ve built

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by golden child’ burn it mv. and by that i mean there are zombies in this, but only if you squint and tilt your head just a little bit to the left. mostly its me having written down sexy times and tenderness at 4 am (because i’d gotten out of touch with writing and this was both cathartic and a writing exercise.) 
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

It had been a chemical spill from one of the research faculties in Busan that started it all. And then it had taken merely a few days to spread, like wildfire, swallowing up entire cities, running them down to rubble, descamated flesh, sinew and blood that soaked the asphalt to colour it pitch black. 

He had lost his parents and his little brother that same week, just a few blocks away from his own house.

So, the world had ended two days after Juyeon had turned 21.

The word ‘End’ feels too final, too clean; no, the world started to skid off the road like a car on a rain slick highway toeing 200 mph, and it’s still hurtling towards ruin, like a car crash in slow motion.

He tries to not think about it too much, which isn’t exactly easy considering the fact that they get chased down by small crowds of zombies at least once every few days, but his philosophy for a while now has been: out of sight, out of mind.

Changmin loathes it. Says it makes him too careless – makes Juyeon seem less human, with how unbothered he is about it at times. 

Juyeon can’t fault him for that; even when civilization is slowly dying, rot creeping in to it’s very core, threatening to overtake them, Changmin still feels overwhelmingly alive. 

He never stops moving; even now, even though Juyeon can’t see him, he can feel Changmin’s constant shifting and jittering since Changmin’s leaning against Juyeon’s back for support. 

Every movement reverberates through the point of contact between them and drives itself through his bad shoulder. Sometimes, Juyeon can still feel the phantom slide of a blade slipping into the muscle and sinew. 

Juyeon shifts, placing one hand firmly in the middle of Changmin’s back to make sure he doesn’t fall when Juyeon sits up. He brings his free hand to touch Changmin on his thigh, applying gentle pressure to bring him to stop moving his leg like there’s a jackhammer tied to his ankle.

Changmin startles under the touch, tensing up, one hand immediately flying to the shotgun lying next to him.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Juyeon soothes, keeping his voice low and steady. Changmin relaxes when his eyes finally focus on Juyeon properly. 

Juyeon’s never asked but he knows well enough that the leg thing is one of Changmin’s many subconscious habits, more often than not, born out of anxiety. 

Before all of this, he used to tell Changmin that it reminded him of Thumper from Bambi, but now the thought feels misplaced; such innocence no longer fits into their world. What stressed Changmin out then had been their literature homework; now they’re just trying to stay alive. 

So, Juyeon knows how Changmin gets every time he has to take the nighwatch; eyes blown wide, and his pupils dilated to inky pools of determination and fear as he stared off into the pitch black streets to spot any stray zombies that might wander too close to their shelter. 

Still, he thinks about it sometimes – the thread that runs through all of those memories and his reality – Bambi, old cartoons that he grew up loving, and Changmin. 

“Did I wake you?” Changmin frowns a little. Even with just the stars in the sky to light up his face, Juyeon can see his bottom lip jutting out in displeasure. Juyeon shakes his head.

“Is it your shoulder again?” Changmin asks, quieter this time. He doesn’t wait for an answer before curling his fingers around the base of Juyeon’s neck, thumb pressing into the first few knobs of his spine, and then trailing down to press into the tender muscles of his right shoulder blade. 

Juyeon grits his teeth to muffle the groan that almost tears out of him at the sharp pain and the thick relief that chases after it. 

He allows for the massage to go on for a few more minutes, seated with the side of his thigh pressed to Changmin’s, as they stare out over a ghost town, letting the cicadas deafen them.

Changmin seems to be using all the force he can muster to massage the knots and the kinks in the stiffened muscles, thumbs and knuckles moving in deep, wide circles, and then fluttering lightly over the knotted skin of his scar. Eventually, Juyeon reaches up to hold Changmin’s wrist in place, to ask him to stop, even though it feels too good and this is the most comfortable he’s been in days. 

“What’s wrong?” Changmin asks, concerned. “Does this make it worse?” 

Juyeon smiles, shaking his head before removing Changmin’s hand gently and placing it on the concrete between them. “You don’t need to keep at it for so long,” he says. He rubs one of the hollows Changmin’s knuckles have made on the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb. “Thanks, babe, it definitely feels better.” 

Changmin blinks. “You don’t need to thank me for massaging your shoulder, Juyeon,” Changmin says, slowly, like it’s obvious.

Juyeon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but some of us weren’t raised in a barn and have manners.” he smirks. “Plus it’s not worth it if I’m sitting here worrying about when your hands will start to hurt.”

“Oh.” Changmin breathes, his eyes going round like shiny pennies and Juyeon doesn’t want to believe it’s only his imagination that a flush starts to bloom over the gentle swells of Changmin’s cheeks. “You’re such a menace. Shut up and let me help you! You know I hate seeing you in pain,” Changmin huffs after a beat of silence. When Juyeon smirk starts to grows, he tacks on, “Besides, I don’t want to hear you complain the entire time we’re on the road tomorrow.” 

Changmin swings one leg over to the other side of the ledge to straddle the low wall and moves closer, hands pushing at Juyeon’s one good shoulder to make him do the same. When Juyeon doesn’t budge on the first try, and only gives Changmin a smug smile for his futile attempt at manhandling him, Changmin calls Juyeon an asshole, and it makes Juyeon laugh even harder. 

Juyeon’s aware that it’s childish that he takes this much pleasure in something so simple as messing with Changmin, but calculating the tenacity at which Changmin will finally snap is almost as fascinating as pressing his thumb to a fading bruise to see how far in he can dig until it stings. It’s only one of the small things that Juyeon uses to keep himself going on some days. 

Eventually, Juyeon gives in and copies Changmin’s pose, but sits with his back to Changmin to allow Changmin to slide in closer to fit himself almost along the curve of his spine. He starts off slow once again, prodding and squeezing at Juyeon’s shoulder almost methodically, never straying from the route that leads his fingers to comb through the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Juyeon’s head, counting down his spine and then settling heavily on his sore shoulder. Changmin curls his fingers into the back of his coat lapels to pull it off so he has better access. 

The night air has gotten warmer since a few weeks ago, as the days had started to bleed into one another, flowing without structure towards summer, so it’s not unbearably cold but it’s still chilly enough for goose pimples to prick at his now exposed arms. But the air no longer blows as fluidly, like the breeze they used to know; it’s almost like this too has ground to a halt like everything else. While it’s true that sans the pollution and the dust, the air is definitely more crisp, it’s still suffocating in its nothingness.

So, when a stronger gust of wind slices through the air Juyeon’s not ready for it, and he shudders, letting out a soft gasp. It makes Changmin pull him in closer, the sharp points of his hip bones fitting into the divots of Juyeon’s spine. 

He slides his hands down Juyeon’s arms, brushing up and down to warm him up, squeezing once or twice as he makes his way down Juyeon’s biceps, branding his forearms, his wrist and his slightly numb palms. 

Changmin bleeds heat like a furnace, always burning up like a fever at any given moment that Juyeon touches him. That’s why he sticks so close to Changmin, obviously – his ridiculously high body temperature. 

Changmin has to hook his chin on Juyeon’s shoulder to reach all the way down, but he manages to slip his fingers between the crooks of Juyeon’s. Juyeon tries his hardest not to shiver again, this time on the opposite end of the spectrum, reacting to the warm breath tickling the side Juyeon’s neck each time Changmin exhales. 

Juyeon wishes he could turn around and look at Changmin, see the way Changmin’s eyes go depthless on nights like this, but it’s impossible at this point. He’s too afraid to make sudden movements in case it unbalances both of them. It’d be pretty fucking stupid to have survived almost two years in the midst of an apocalypse only to die by falling to their deaths, or worse, breaking an arm or a leg which would mean a death sentence anyway. 

That’s okay though, because it’s just as fascinating to watch how Changmin’s palms settle in the center of his much broader ones, fitting into the hollow of them like coming home. When Changmin slips his hands out of his grasp, he tries to chase them to bring them back but Changmin’s quicker. He slides it up Juyeon’s stomach instead, and Juyeon’s face burns with the way the muscles in his abdomen jump under Changmin’s touch, where his fingertips slip past the t-shirt that’s ridden up, just above the waistband of his jeans. 

Blunt nails scratch through the sparse trail of hair leading up to Juyeon’s navel and then past it, mapping out the ridges of lean muscle, over the burns and scars that mar the smooth skin, lingering briefly as though to remind them both of where they are, and who they are. 

Juyeon holds his breath, feeling like his lungs will burst when Changmin’s hands slip over his ribs. Rough palms bruise his hardened nipples before one of them gets rolled between warm fingertips. 

Juyeon whimpers when Changmin pinches both of them at the same time. He doesn’t know if he should pull away or push himself directly into Changmin’s hands.

Changmin presses himself up more firmly against Juyeon, and tries to soothe him with a kiss to the juncture of his neck. Juyeon exhales, finally letting go and willing himself to relax with the way Changmin’s lips drag across his skin. 

Below them, on the other side of the road, something starts to rustle; it’s too dark for his eyes to see what it is, no matter how much he strains his eyes. A second later they hear the familiar guttural mumbling and the higher pitched snarls drift out of the overgrown foliage. 

Juyeon freezes, spine locking up, survival instinct overriding everything else at the moment, even though the rooftop they’re on is high up enough that there’s no imminent threat. But Changmin never stops, not even for a second, tongue darting out to lick, sharp canines drawing down the side of his neck.

The sudden mix of fear and the undertones of arousal keeps him distracted enough that he hadn’t even noticed when Changmin had let his hands slip out from underneath his t-shirt to trail it down past the first two buttons of his jeans until he’s cupping the length of Juyeon’s hardened dick straining against the hard denim. 

A strangled noise caught between a curse and a moan rips out from him, body jerking almost violently in surprise when Changmin presses his palm down, just as his teeth sink into the paper thin skin just behind his left ear. 

“Shh, baby. It’s okay,” Changmin croons into his ear, voice as quiet as death, tone low and grating in a way that makes Juyeon’s palms sweat. He pops off the button of the trousers with just one hand, cleanly; with practiced ease. 

Juyeon whimpers when Changmin slips his hand underneath the elastic band of his briefs to wrap him in a firm, almost scorching grip. 

Juyeon hisses through his teeth when Changmin pulls his dick out completely, the head barely avoiding getting snagged on the waistband. He squirms when Changmin squeezes him with the barest hint of pressure in his grip, feeling trapped between wanting to cover himself up and demanding Changmin move his hand and put Juyeon out of his misery. 

He flushes, embarrassed at being so exposed, laid out bare like an exposed nerve, the chill biting into flushed, sensitive skin. But then he feels stupid, to be ashamed when there’s no one around to catch them acting like horny teenagers, going at it in some abandoned factory like they had just discovered what sex is anyway – at least no one that’s still alive is going to catch them, but still. 

As vulnerable as he feels right now, he feels safe; safer than he’s felt in days, trapped between Changmin’s arms and the gaping blackness of the sky above them. 

All of his thoughts go flying out the window though when Changmin starts to twist his wrist and stroke him, once, twice, and one final time; dry and just on the edge of pain that still makes the muscles in Juyeon’s thighs constrict and jump. 

Changmin lets go of him to bring his palm up to his mouth and spits into it. Juyeon cringes at the sound it makes, but he sighs in relief when the new slide is slicker and easier.

Juyeon lets his head fall back to be supported by Changmin’s shoulder, eyes fluttering close, letting the slow building sensation pull at him. It’s slow, and it’s peaceful, and it’s not enough. 

Changmin’s hand picks up speed, and he makes sure to tighten his fist around the dark, flushed head on each upstroke. When Changmin meanly digs his thumb into Juyeon’s swollen slit, he bites his lips so hard he tastes metal on his tongue. 

Just when Juyeon feels the dull pleasure pooling at the base of his stomach stretching razor thin, and his thighs start to burn, the foliage starts to move again; this time, they can both see the pale, mangled body that stumbles out of it on unsteady feet. Changmin finally stops, fingers twitching around Juyeon’s cock. 

They both hold their breath as the world shrinks, and slows down to come to stand still. The blood in his veins still turns to ice whenever he sees one of these monsters. Seeing death act so alive is something Juyeon thinks he will never get used to.

They watch in silence as the Body staggers down the road, dragging behind it, its broken ankle, listening to the sickening noise it makes on the rough asphalt.

It catches Juyeon off guard when Changmin brings them both back into action by pressing his thumb and rubbing at the soft fold of skin just under the head of his cock. 

Juyeon moans at the sudden sensation, the noise tearing itself past his throat, uncomfortably loud and breaking the silence. Changmin’s quick to bring his free hand to Juyeon’s mouth, index finger pressing down hard over his lips until they go bloodless under his touch. 

“We’re going to run into some trouble like last time if you don’t keep quiet,” Changmin warns him, warm gusts of breath hitting the side of Juyeon’s face with each word. “Can you be quiet for me, baby? Or this is not going to work.” 

Juyeon nods his assent ridiculously quickly, head swimming with lust and feeling stupid with desperation. 

The fingers over his jaw tighten almost painfully when Juyeon darts his tongue out to lick the tip of Changmin’s finger. Changmin curses softly, the expletive muffling into the side of Juyeon’s neck when Juyeon sucks the finger into his mouth.

When Changmin lets go of Juyeon, pulling away from his body completely to swing his legs off the low ledge, and stand up, Juyeon considers how badly fucked they’d be if he took this chance to whine and complain about Changmin being a teasing bitch. 

Juyeon does the same quickly, mimicking Changmin’s movements from earlier. Not for the first time that night, he feels a little ridiculous, standing with his pants bunched up around his thighs and with his cock exposed, rock hard and bobbing each time he shifts on his feet. 

He must be pouting because Changmin laughs, leaning up to kiss it off his mouth. The entire length of their bodies get pressed against each other because Changmin has to rise on his tiptoes to kiss him properly. Juyeon kind of loves it, he can’t lie – the way Changmin has to reach out, and Juyeon gets to catch him halfway, it’s all calculated; easy; safe; when everything else in his life has been flipped on their head, they’ve stayed constant. 

Juyeon brings his hands up to tilt Changmin’s head just a little to the left so it’s easier to lick into his mouth. Juyeon feels the way Changmin’s lashes brush his cheekbone like the flutter of butterfly wings. The two days worth of rough stubble over Changmin’s jaw scrapes his palms, anchoring him in place with its rough slide. 

He knows if he cracks open his eyes he’s going to see the purple shadows that have taken permanent residence just underneath Changmin’s lashes, and how his dark brown eyes are always just a little cloudier than he remembers them being; the same way that he sometimes catches glimpses of his own weariness in the shine of Changmin’s irises. 

Changmin makes a noise of surprise when Juyeon starts to lead him backwards blindly, relying on his wishful thinking and pure luck that they don’t trip over any rubble or stray pieces of metal on the floor until he reaches their makeshift bed for the night: a few thick, old blankets they had managed to grab from houses they’ve raided, piled on top of each other. It’s kind of gross. 

Changmin shrugs off his jacket to lay down first and pulls Juyeon on top of him. He almost falls and crushes them both but manages to catch himself on one elbow next to Changmin’s head. Juyeon winces slightly at the jarring sensation and the sharp lances of pain that slice up his arm to drive themselves into his shoulder. 

“Shit, sorry,” Changmin apologizes, voice rising in concern. He kisses Juyeon on the corner of his mouth gently as an added measure. Juyeon rests his forehead on Changmin’s shoulder and waits for the pain to subside, and Changmin holds him closer, carding his fingers lazily through Juyeon’s hair. 

Juyeon’s still half hard, but he’s also tired enough, and this position is so warm and comfortable that if he tries he can probably fall asleep just like this. But then again, his cock is still half hard and another day of being alive or another orgasm isn’t promised anymore and he’d much rather not waste this opportunity, so, he rises up to kiss Changmin again. 

Changmin shudders when Juyeon pushes his hand inside his pants. He frowns, eyebrows drawing together to a point on his small forehead. “Dude, your hands are like ice and my dick is sensitive,” he says, scowling up at Juyeon. 

Juyeon laughs. “Sorry baby,” he says, dropping a quick kiss on the tip of Changmin’s nose before pulling away.

He pushes down Changmin’s sweats, slipping them off his feet as gently as he can, thumb pressing to the paper thin skin behind his ankles. He tosses the pants haphazardly to the side before settling down between Changmin’s legs, with Changmin’s bent knees bracketing his shoulders.

When Juyeon ghosts his breath over the flushed head of his cock, Changmin twitches, the sharp bone of his knee almost clocking Juyeon in the side of his head. He coaxes Changmin to relax and spread his legs further apart with a soft peck to the side of his kneecap, and one on his inner thigh. 

Changmin bites back a curse when Juyeon takes him in, just holding him in his mouth at first, letting his cock weigh heavily on Juyeon’s tongue, feeling the way it thickens with each passing second, a fat vein pulsating against his tongue – to allow Changmin to revel in the satiny warmth for a few seconds before Juyeon starts to inch down until his nose is hitting the coarse hairs at the base of Changmin’s cock. 

Changmin’s usually loud; he used to be the loudest person Juyeon used to know. Even this: sex; fucking; Changmin used to whimper needily in the prettiest way, not giving a fuck that their college dorm room had walls as thick as copier paper. But they’ve gotten used to indulging in whispers for so long, living on murmured prayers that never get answered, muffling moans of pleasure into sweaty palms, that sometimes Juyeon wonders if Changmin is going to burst at the seams with everything he keeps bottled up inside of that small body of his. 

So, it’s always so tempting to try and make him break again – push him to the edge until tips over, but Juyeon resists it. So much of living now is actually enduring, but that’s okay because at least it’s a little easier that its their shared burden. 

Juyeon pulls off when the fist tangled in his hair grows tight enough to sting. He wipes away at the drool and precome coating his lips and his chin with the back of his hand before Changmin’s lips find his face again, nipping, kissing, sliding down his jaw and against his own lips briefly. 

Juyeon pulls his tattered backpack closer with one of its straps and rummages through its contents with slowly dawning horror. He groans inwardly when all he manages to find are a few empty, crinkled packets of lube they had taken off a shelf from a pharmacy a few days ago. 

Changmin groans at the sight, hiding his face in his palms. “I fucking hate our past horny ourselves.” 

“You’re one to complain. You got to come in me twice,” Juyeon reminds him, but it’s hard to be bitter when the memory of Changmin pushing him down and fucking him over a dusty mahogany desk inside the city hall, and then again, later that same night, with his chin hooked over Juyeon’s shoulder while they’re lying on their sides on the bedding, fucking into Juyeon at a newer angle, with an arm hooked under his knee, pushing it up until it touches his chest to spread him apart. 

“This is fine,” Changmin presses on, sitting up right. The stretched collar of his t-shirt slips down one of his shoulders. His chest is flushed, spreading out over the sharp cuts of his collarbones. “Fuck me raw. I can take it.” 

Still, even after all this time it makes Juyeon choke on his saliva. His blood rushing in his ears at the thought, but he hesitates. They still have a long walk ahead of them tomorrow, there’s too much ground left to cover before they reach the Base; their one shiny glimmer of hope, the only wavelength still active on the radio, promising sanctuary; home. 

But Changmin curls a hand around his neck to bring him in closer and whispers, “It’s okay, trust me,” and Juyeon’s known Changmin longer enough to know that out of the two of them, Changmin’s the one who’s scarily self aware of his capacities so he nods in acceptance. 

Any coherent thought still left in Juyeon’s mind vanishes like dust in the wind when Changmin lays back down and opens himself up by pulling one of his legs up to his chest. Juyeon watches the way he’s still pink and tight, and then how he flutters in the slightest when Juyeon runs a hand over the back of Changmin’s thigh, grazing over the outlines of hard, corded muscles that strain under damp skin before sliding under Changmin’s ass to squeeze gently before opening him up even more, thumbs pressing to the outer edges of his rim. 

Changmin shudders when Juyeon drags the dry pad of his thumb to gently rub over the tight muscle. Juyeon brings his other leg up, bending down to drop a kiss to the top of his knee in praise when Changmin reaches down to hook his free hand under his knee to help hold both legs close to his chest. 

He doesn’t even have to ask anymore when he brings his hand to Changmin’s face, because Changmin is already waiting to take two of his fingers into his mouth and run his tongue over the digits to coat them in saliva. 

There’s a suspended moment between that and Juyeon bringing his hand down, drawing a light spit trail down Changmin’s cock and his balls, down to the pulsating heat of his hole. 

Juyeon murmurs words of reassurance while he just strokes him so Changmin breathes out, the long exhale punching out in short bursts as he wills himself to relax. 

It’s still unbearably tight; the tight muscle is ungiving, resisting Juyeon’s index finger. He keeps his hand as steady as possible when he sinks his finger down to the last knuckle, feeling the way Changmin’s body tries to adjust around him; the familiar heat and wetness that sucks him in. 

“I would like to get fucked today, Juyeon,” Changmin says, impatiently, but the heat in it is useless, dissipating instantaneously with the way his voice wavers when he speaks. 

“And I’m still going to need you to keep up with me tomorrow, so let me go slow,” Juyeon says, laughing softly. Besides, he’s been hard for at least twenty minutes now, and did anyone hear him complain? Exactly. 

Changmin sucks him in deeper when he presses in a second finger, and then slowly pulls both digits out to fuck them into Changmin a little faster, watching how quickly the ring of muscle goes red and angry with the way skin drags on skin, over and over again. 

Changmin is trembling all around him, and against him, where their bodies are pressed together; he starts to thrum like a livewire under Juyeon’s ministrations when he finally crooks his fingers up, pressing against the small nodule of nerves, massaging it draws out broken whimpers. 

Changmin’s body jerks forward almost violently, when the glob of spit lands on his perineum and drips down all the way to his hole. It sounds and looks crude even to Juyeon, but it’s also kind of hot to watch how his spit makes the already stretched and reddened muscle glisten; Juyeon uses a thumb to collect it and push it in.

He spits in his palm to slick himself up, and it’s still so, so, gross, but he’s too turned on to give a fuck, and when Changmin begs, his voice breaking on the syllables, it barely matters anymore.

Even with Changmin’s hole slick and loose, there’s still a little resistance for an extended moment before Juyeon can finally break through; just as soon as the head of his cock breaches the rim, Changmin reflexively clamps down like a vice around the over sensitive head, making Juyeon groan in shock. He grits his teeth, resisting the urge to push home, torn between not wanting to hurt Changmin any more than he has to and needing to chase release. 

He forces himself to inch in excruciatingly slowly, bare skin dragging against bare skin one centimeter at a time for what feels like an eternity. 

When he bottoms out he has to support himself over Changmin with his hands placed on the chilled concrete just above his shoulders.

Changmin’s eyes are hooded, his lashes wet with sweat and the tears trapped in them. His irises turn to glass when he looks up at Juyeon, and the moonlight overhead gets trapped in them; even after all this time, it’s hard not to stare.

And then Changmin flexes around him, lust winning over once again, grinding down on Juyeon almost tentatively at first, and then with more determination until Juyeon moves. 

The drag is just on the right side of pain, stinging only slightly when he thrusts in deep and pulls out until he’s only being held inside Changmin by the rim catching on his head, and then diving back in, angling upwards as much as he can to nail Changmin’s prostate each time, making Changmin curse into the crook of his elbow. 

Juyeon fights past the lightheadedness that accompanies each thrust, until something completely starts to pierce through the veil of lust; slow growing pain that starts at a knot on his bad shoulder and sharpens its way down the entire arm. It’s becoming harder to coordinate his movements no matter how much Juyeon tries to ignore it, and it’s not too long before Changmin notices. 

“What is it?” Changmin asks, his voice sounding jagged. “Oh, fuck, your arm,” he gasps, once realisation hits. He lifts himself up on one elbow, to push Juyeon back with the other hand until he ends up sitting back on his haunches. Changmin winces in the process when the movement makes Juyeon twitch inside of him. He reaches down between them to ease Juyeon out, slowly with careful and firm fingers. “Go on, lie down,” Changmin coaxes, shifting their positions until Juyeon’s back is pressed down into the cheap wool. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this anyway.” Changmin grins down at him after straddling his hips.

He barely gives Juyeon any warning before licking his palm and pumping Juyeon’s cock. He hisses in at the sudden shock. And then cringes, because, again, they’re kind of gross, but again, they’re both too turned on to give a fuck it seems so it cancels out. 

Juyeon holds his breath when Changmin rises on his knees, reaching behind him to position Juyeon properly before inching down. Juyeon runs what he hopes is a soothing touch up and down Changmin’s thigh when his brows start to pinch together, and his breathing picks up again. 

It’s hell, to not be able to move a muscle when he feels every single millimeter of velvet skin surround him, almost choking him with how much tighter Changmin is from this angle. 

An exhale punches out of both at the same time once Changmin is fully seated on Juyeon’s lap.

“Fuck. Fuck, Juyeon, I feel so full. You’re so—” Changmin trails off, his babbling morphing into a choked off noise, wet and desperate in the back of his throat. He rises up slowly and sinks down with a shudder, once , twice, and then on the third he places a hand on Juyeon’s chest and starts to move in earnest, drawing faster figure 8s with his hips, gyrating at almost an unforgiving pace. 

He’s not sure how long Changmin rides him for; it feels like an eternity because somewhere along the way Changmin’s found his meanstreak again and he slows down to stave of Juyeon’s orgasm each time he reaches the edge. Juyeon barely registers the way the pitch blackness of the sky fades, purpling at the edges as the dawn approaches. 

It’s torture that this feels so good. He feels as though he’s been reduced to a being of white, hot pleasure – the kind that makes the air surrounding them frazzle. 

Changmin’s fighting a losing battle with his stamina the more the longer they fuck, and it’s apparent in how he almost buckles forward to rest his burning forehead on Juyeon’s chest. 

Juyeon pulls him closer by holding onto Changmin’s waist; it’s still fascinating how easy it is to gather him all up into Juyeon’s arms. 

Changmin squeaks when Juyeon sits up, when this new angle brings them even closer – so deep within Changmin that where he ends and Changmin begins starts to blur. 

The hand Changmin’s using to jerk himself off gets stuck between their bodies and he whines into the crook of Juyeon’s neck, hiccuping out a sob at not being able to push up into his own fist. 

Juyeon uses his good arm to lift Changmin up, helping him fuck down on Juyeon’s cock until the orgasm rips through him, violent at how off guard it catches him, even though it’s been looming on the horizon for so long already. 

Changmin milks him until he’s drained, clenching the whole time he’s bouncing up and down on Juyeon’s cock with a renewed vigour. Juyeon feels his own come coat his cock, hot and thick when it fills Changmin fully. He reaches down, touching the base of his cock where it disappears into Changmin, feeling the wetness starting to seep out. 

When he starts to soften, he lifts Changmin off completely, laying him back down. His cock is still rock hard, flushed and raw, curving towards his belly, and its mushroom head has bloomed magenta, glistening with the thin white ropes of precum dripping down of his slit. The ridge just above the fold of skin shines angrily. 

Changmin sobs out a broken noise when Juyeon bends down to take him into his mouth. He hollows out his cheeks and sucks, bobbing his head with intent, ignoring the way it almost immediately makes him jaw throb; he taps the head on his tongue, catching the hot spurts of precome before sinking down again. 

He holds Changmin down with a palm splayed over the sharp bones of his hip when Changmin starts to gyrate his hips a little too harshly. And then Changmin’s coming, knees on either side of Juyeon’s body pressing against him, trapping him in place while his body twitches in pleasure. 

Juyeon pulls off, swallowing the salt and wiping at the back of his mouth before reaching for the backpack again to pull out a few rags and wiping Changmin down, finding both of their pants and helping him pull his pants back on afterwards, even though Juyeon’s arms feel like lead. 

Once they’re both clothed and lying down again, he pulls Changmin into a lazy kiss, licking behind Changmin’s teeth and sucking Changmin’s slick bottom lip, teeth barely digging into its supple flesh. But then Changmin gasps out of the kiss, using it to break way from Juyeon as though startled. 

Juyeon blinks, confused at the change up. He listens intently to anything that might have startled Changmin, but again, the only accompaniment they have are the loud as fuck cicadas, still going strong. 

He’s even more confused when Changmin scrambles to his feet and goes in search of his own bag. Juyeon can see him at the edge of the rooftop, rummaging through it. If his legs didn’t feel like claydough he would’ve gone and sated his curiosity but all Juyeon manages to do is sit up and wait for Changmin to bring back whatever he is searching for. 

It’s a cupcake, Juyeon realises once Changmin’s back. A definitely stale, convenient store cupcake with one unlit candle stuck to it. 

Changmin grins, holding it out to him.

Juyeon blinks.

“Happy Birthday, baby. I’m glad you’re the one I’m stuck with at the end of the world,” Changmin says with a lingering kiss to his temple.

Oh. 

Time had stopped being of significance so long ago, and sometimes a part of Juyeon feels frozen, still 21, fresh off of his first year in college, so he hasn’t kept track of anything other than the ballpoint ink lines on their old map, and the names of every one they’ve lost along the way. 

All that matters anymore is surviving; the posters, the woman on the radio, it's all they will tell you – let go of what used to be, before it kills you. 

But then there are moments that always feels like a punch to the gut, reminding him that there will always be something more, and this is one of them – Changmin in front of him, flushed from sex, greasy hair matted to his forehead, trying to feed Juyeon his birthday cupcake. 

Even after everything, against all odds, they’ve made it; Changmin’s still here, as the only one Juyeon can still call his own, just as much as he’s the only home Juyeon will ever belong to, and that’s all that really matters. 

Juyeon pulls Changmin in and kisses him until the sun rises, and it warms the back of his neck, opening up the world to them; another day, another chance to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

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